Belshazzar E-Book

H Rider Haggard

• Herausgeber: Ktoczyta.pl
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Belshazzar is the latest novel by Henry Rider Haggard. He wrote it shortly before his death. All events revolve around Ramose, a descendant of the Egyptian pharaoh and the Greek. He decides to radically change his life and go on adventures. As a result, this decision leads to the fall of Babylon at the hand of the Persian Empire under Cyrus.

Leseprobe

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1. Ramose And His Mother

Chapter 2. The Cup Of Hathor

Chapter 3. The Counsel Of Belus

Chapter 4. The Fall Of Ramose

Chapter 5. The Flight To Amasis

Chapter 6. The Gift Of God

Chapter 7. Ramose Seeks Refuge In Cyprus

Chapter 8. At Memphis

Chapter 9. Pharaoh Comes To Memphis

Chapter 10. The Happy House

Chapter 11. The Burial Of Apis

Chapter 12. Gone!

Chapter 13. Babylon

Chapter 14. The Prophet And The Prince

Chapter 15. Ramose Finds Friends

Chapter 16. Ramose Is Tempted

Chapter 17. At The Western Gate

Chapter 18. The Letter

Chapter 19. The Lady Of The Litter

Chapter 20. The End Of Obil

Chapter 21. The Writing On The Wall

DEDICATION

A. Cowan Guthrie, Esq., M.B.

Dear Cowan Guthrie, You, a student of that age, persuaded me to write this tale of Belshazzar and Babylon. Therefore I offer it to you. Sincerely yours, H. Rider Haggard.

CHAPTER 1

RAMOSE AND HIS MOTHER

Now when by the favour of the most high God, Him whom I worship, to whom every man is gathered at last, now, I say, when I am old, many have urged upon me that I, Ramose, should set down certain of those things that I have seen in the days of my life, and particularly the tale of the fall of Babylon, the mighty city, before Cyrus the Persian, which chanced when he whom the Greeks called Nabonidus being newly dead, Belshazzar his son was king.

Therefore, having ever been a lover of letters, this I do in the Grecian tongue here in my house at Memphis, the great city of the Nile, whereof to-day I am the governor under Darius the Persian, for it has pleased God after many adversities to bring me to this peace and dignity at last. Whether any will read this book when it is written, or whether it will perish with me, I do not know, nor indeed does it trouble me much, since none can tell the end of anything good or ill, and all must happen as it is decreed. Man makes a beginning, but the rest is in the hands of fate; indeed his life itself is but a beginning of which the end is hid.

Now to-day when he is almost forgotten, I can say without fear that I am a king’s son, for my father was none other than the Pharaoh Uah-ab-Ra, whom the Greeks called Apries and the Hebrews Hophra. Nor is my blood all royal, seeing that I was not the son of the wife of Pharaoh, but of one of his women, a Grecian lady named Chloe, the daughter of Chion, an Athenian by birth, of whom the less said the better for my mother told me that being a spendthrift and in want of money, he turned her beauty to account by giving her to Apries in exchange for a great present. I know no more of the matter because she would seldom speak of it, saying that it was shameful, adding only that her father was well-born; that her mother had died when she was an infant, and that before she came to the court at Sais, they saw many changes of fortune, living sometimes in wealth, but for the most part humbly and in great poverty which in after years bred in her a love of rank and riches.

Here in the palace of Sais during the little time that my mother was in favour with Pharaoh, I was born, and here I lived till I was a young man grown, being brought up with the sons of the great nobles and taught all things that one of my station should know, especially the art of war and how to ride and handle weapons. Further I got learning because always from the first I loved it, being taught many things by Greek masters who were about the court, as well as by Egyptians; also by a certain Babylonian named Belus, a doctor who was versed in strange lore concerning the stars. Of this Belus, my master and friend but for whom I should long ago be dead, I shall have much to tell.

Thus it came about that in the end I could read and speak Greek as well as I could Egyptian, which was not to be wondered at, seeing that I learned it at my mother’s breast. Also I mastered the Babylonian or Chaldean tongue, though not so well, and with it the curious writing of that people.

Of my father, the Pharaoh, I saw little for he had so many children such as I, born of different mothers, that he took small heed of us, he upon whom lay this hard fortune, that from those who were his queens according to the law of Egypt, he had no offspring save one daughter only, while from those who were not his queens he had many. This was a heavy grief to the Pharaoh my father, who saw in it the hands of the gods to whom he made great sacrifices, especially to Ptah-Khepera the Creator and Father of Life, building up his temple at Memphis, and praying of him a son of the pure blood. But no son came and an oracle told him that he who loved the Greeks so much must to the Greeks for offspring, which was true, for all his sons were born of Grecian women, as perhaps the oracle knew already.

On a certain day I and other lads of my age were running races after the Grecian fashion. In the long race I outran all the rest, and fell panting and exhausted into the arms of one who, followed by three companions, stood wrapped in a dark cloak, (for the time was winter,) just by a wand that we had set in the ground to serve us as a winning-post.

“Well run and well won!” said a voice which I knew for that of Apries. “How are you named and who begot you?”

Now I rose from the ground upon which I had sunk, and pretending that he was a stranger to me, gasped out,

“Ramose is my name, and as for that of my begetter, go ask his of Pharaoh.”

“I thought it,” muttered Apries, considering me. Then he turned to the first of his councillors and said,

“You know of what we were talking just now; this lad is straight and strong and has a noble air; moreover I have a good report of him from his instructors who say that he loves learning. Why should he not fill a throne as well as another? The double crown would look well upon his brow.”

“Because his skin is too white, Pharaoh,” answered that councillor. “If the Egyptians learned that you purposed to set a Greek to rule them after you, they would cut his throat and perhaps tumble you into the Nile.”

I remember these words very well, because although spoken at hazard, they must have been inspired, for they were in fact a prophecy, seeing that in the after years Apries was tumbled into the Nile whence Amasis who had usurped his throne, rescued his body and gave it royal burial.

After this Pharaoh spoke to me for a while, but not until he had bidden one of his councillors to lift the cloak from his shoulders and throw it round me, lest I, who was hot with the racing, should take cold. So there I stood, wrapped in the royal cloak of Tyrian purple, while those King’s Companions muttered together, thinking that this was an omen and that one day I should sit upon the throne. Yet it was none, for it was not fated that any of the blood of Uah-ab-Ra, or Apries, should reign after him. That cloak I have to this day, though I do not wear it because of its royal clasp, for Pharaoh does not take back his gifts, or even that which he has lent for an hour. Yes, I have the cloak but not the crown, though this in truth I never sought.

Well, he searched me with his shrewd eyes that at times could look so fierce, and asked me questions as to my studies; also what I wished to be, a priest or a scribe or a soldier.

“What Pharaoh pleases,” I answered, “though if I had my will, I would be all three, a priest because he draws nigh to the gods; a scribe because he gathers learning which is strength, and a soldier because he defends his country and wins glory. Yet most of all I would be a soldier.”

“Well spoken,” said Pharaoh, like one who was astonished at my answer. “You shall have your way if I can give it to you.”

Then he held out his hand to me to kiss and left me, muttering,

“Would that his mother had been Egyptian and not Greek.”

Here I must tell that before this time my mother, Chloe, who long ago had been succeeded by others in Pharaoh’s favour, no longer dwelt at the court in Sais. For Apries, wishing to do well by her, had given her in marriage to a wealthy Egyptian named Tapert, who was one of his officers at Memphis where he filled the place of a judge and overseer of revenues. This Tapert, a kindly- faced, grizzled little man, had fallen in love with my mother’s beauty while he was at court making report to Pharaoh on matters at Memphis, and especially as to the rebuilding of the temple of Ptah in that city, with which he had to do. Noting this, as he noted all, when the time came for Tapert to return to Memphis, Apries asked him if he desired any gift of Pharaoh whom he had served well. Tapert made no answer but let his eyes rest upon my mother who, with other women of the royal household, sat at a distance broidering linen with Grecian patterns, as she loved to do.

Apries thought a while, then said,

“Take her, if she will go. For you are a good man, if ugly, and as your wife she may be happier than here–as nothing. Ask her. You have my leave.”

So he asked as it was made easy for him to do, and in the end, although she loved the pomp and pleasures of the court, my mother listened to him, knowing him for a very rich and honest man of good blood and station, one, too, whom she could rule. So it came about that while she was still a young and beautiful woman, for the Greeks do not wither as early as do the Egyptians, by the permission of Pharaoh my mother was married according to the full custom to the Count Tapert, a man of many offices and titles who settled wealth upon her should he die. Thus it happened that she went to live with him at Memphis, while I stayed behind at Sais.

Our parting was sad, although after my childhood we had met but little, because the laws of the court kept us apart.

“Hearken, my son,” she said to me. “I make this marriage for a double reason. When I was but a child I was delivered into the hands of Pharaoh, who soon forgot me in favour of others who came after, but because I had borne him a son, treated me honourably. Now while I am still fair I have opportunity to leave this cage with golden bars, and to become a free woman as the wife of a rich and honest man who loves me, one by whom I shall be cherished, and I take it thankfully who, if I stayed here, might one day find myself thrown into the street. Yet not altogether for my own sake, because it means that we must be parted; also, if I am loved, I do not love. Know, my son, that what I do, I do for you more even than for myself. Here in the palace you are highly placed; the Pharaoh looks upon you with favour; there are some who think that in the end he will make a prince of you and, having no lawful heirs of the royal blood, name you to follow after him. It may be that this is in his mind. But if so I am sure that it could never come about while your mother, the Grecian slave, remained at court to remind the great ones of Egypt that you are base- born of a woman whose people the Egyptians hate, whereas if I go away this may be forgotten, though I fear that your skin will always tell its own story.

“Nor is this all. As Tapert has whispered to me, Pharaoh is rich; Pharaoh is powerful and under him the people have prosperity, the arts flourish and their gods are better served than they have been for many an age, all of which comes about because Egypt is guarded by the Greeks whom Pharaoh hires. Yet he says that they hate those guardians, they who will not protect themselves, and it may well happen that from this hatred trouble will come, bringing with it the fall of Pharaoh and of those of his House. Therefore, should that chance, I would make ready a refuge for you, my son.

“Tapert is very rich, as he has told me, one of the richest men in Egypt, although few know it, and henceforth all he has is mine, and what is mine is yours, for I do not think that I shall ever bear him children. Therefore, in the hour of trouble remember always that there is a place where you can lay your head, my son of the royal blood of Egypt, whose throne you still may win by help of the wealth that I can give you, and thereby make me, a Grecian slave bought for her beauty, the mother of a king.”

Thus she spoke and as she did so I read her heart, who although I was so young had knowledge of the court ladies and their ways. She went because she thought it no longer safe to stay near to Pharaoh who was weary of the sight of her and of her importunities for gifts and honours, and might at any time cast her out. Still I was sad, for I who had no one else to love, loved my mother however vain and foolish she might be.

So she departed and became the wife of Tapert, Pharaoh making many gifts to her. But I stayed on at court and grew in strength and stature, also in favour with Pharaoh. Hence it came about that I was advanced beyond my station and made a Count of Egypt and a Companion of the King with other offices and titles, seeing which all men bowed down to me, thinking that in days to come, although I was base-born and half a Greek, I still might sit where Pharaoh sat. And so it might have chanced had it not been decreed otherwise and had not Hathor, whom the Greeks call Aphrodite, lit a flame of love within my heart that burned me up and wellnigh brought me to my death.

It happened thus. The King of Babylon had attacked certain peoples in Syria of whom the chief king was named Abibal, an old man. Now in the fighting the Babylonians were driven back, or rather had retired purposing to return at their own season with a larger army–it might be next year, or the year after, or the year after that, as it suited them, to burn the cities of Abibal and his allies and to slay their peoples or take them captive.

Now in this fighting the old king Abibal was wounded with an arrow in the thigh, which wound festered so that in the end he died. Before he died he determined to seek the aid of Apries, the Pharaoh of Egypt, against the Babylonians. Therefore since he trusted no one else, he left command that a young wife of his named Atyra, whom he had married in his age, the daughter of another Syrian king, should go in person to the court of Egypt and lay the cause of her country before Pharaoh, so that he might send an army to defend it from the Babylonians. For this old king cared nothing of what might happen to his young wife after he was dead, or who should take her, but for his people, and the other peoples who were his allies, he cared much.

So he bound the Queen Atyra by a solemn oath to do his bidding, calling down the curse of his spirit and that of his gods upon her if she failed therein, and she who was youthful and desired to see new lands, and above all Egypt, swore all that he wished readily enough, after which he died and was buried. When he had been sealed up in his tomb Queen Atyra, a woman of great beauty who had been brought up in statecraft, with a voice so sweet and a mind so subtle that she could win any man to her will, started upon her journey in much pomp and bearing many gifts, leaving her dead lord’s successor seated upon his throne.

At length having passed all dangers and escaped from a troop of the Babylonians that was sent out to capture her, she came safely to Egypt and encamping at a little distance from Sais, despatched messengers to Pharaoh to announce her and ask his safeguard for herself and her companions. As it chanced I, Ramose, now a young man in my twentieth year, was the captain of the guard that day; therefore it fell to me to receive these messengers and bring them before Pharaoh and his officers.

He listened to their tale of which already he knew something from his spies and those who served him in Syria. Then, having consulted with his councillors and scribes, he beckoned to me and when I came and bowed before him, said,

“Ramose, take an escort with you and ride out to the camp of this lady Atyra, and say to her that it is too late for me to answer her prayer to-day when the sun is already near to setting, but that I will consider of it to- morrow. Talk with her yourself, if you can, for she will suspect no guile in one so young, but at least spend the night at her camp learning all that you are able concerning her and her business, and to-morrow at the dawn return to make report to me.”

So I went clad in the Grecian armour that Apries had commanded the guard to wear, thereby giving much offence to the Egyptian generals and soldiers, taking my newest cloak and mounted on a fine horse of the Arab breed. Indeed, having heard through the messengers that this lady was young and beautiful, I desired to look my best, for to tell the truth, like many youths of my age I was somewhat vain and wished to please the eyes of women. Moreover this was not altogether strange, seeing that all thought me comely, who was tall and well- shaped, having clear-cut Grecian features that I inherited from my mother, brown hair that curled upon my head and large dark eyes, the gift of my Egyptian blood. Further, I was ready of speech and could talk of anything, though in truth as yet I knew little, all of which I do not shame to write now when I am old. Lastly I must add this, though it is not to my credit; that I was too fond of women and made love to them when the chance came my way, which was often at the court of Sais. Or perhaps they made love to me –I do not know; at least none of them had really touched my heart, or I theirs.

Thus, full of youth and goodliness and the lust of life and all the gifts that the gods give us when we are young, of which we think so little until we have grown old and they are gone, followed by my escort I galloped forth proud of my mission and hoping for adventure. For little did I know that I rode into the arms of terror and of sorrow.

CHAPTER 2

THE CUP OF HATHOR

An hour later, guided by the messengers, one of whom had gone on ahead to warn this lady Atyra of my coming, I caught sight of her camp set upon the sand at the edge of the cultivated land, and noted that it was large. The tents were many, dark in colour, most of them, for they were woven of camel hair after the Arab fashion, but in their midst was a great white pavilion dyed with stripes of blue and red, over which fluttered a strange, three-pointed flag which seemed to be blazoned with stars of gold.

This banner, I guessed, must mark the resting-place of the lady Atyra who called herself a queen. What sort of a queen was she, I wondered. Thick-made and black probably, though these Syrians whom in my ignorance I believed to be swarthy folk, thought her fair, as indeed all queens are fair according to those who serve them.

Whilst I was musing thus we came to the camp and must pass between two lines of camels, many of which were lying down chewing their food. Now like most horses, mine, a spirited beast, hated the sight and smell of camels and growing restive, took the bit between its teeth in such fashion that I could not hold it. Rushing forward it headed straight for the great pavilion with the coloured stripes. Soldiers or servants sprang forward to stay the beast, but without avail, for it overthrew one of them, causing the rest to fly. On we went, till at the very door of the tent my horse caught its feet in a rope and fell, hurling me straight through the open entrance. Over and over I rolled and though my bones were unharmed, for the sand was covered with thick carpets, the breath was shaken out of me, so that for a while I sat gasping with my helmet all awry like to that of a drunken soldier.

The sound of laughter reached me, very gentle laughter that reminded me of water rippling over stones. Also there was other coarser laughter such as might come from the throats of slaves or eunuchs or of serving-girls. It made me very angry, so much so that being half-stunned, with what breath I had left I said words I should not have uttered, adding that I was Pharaoh’s envoy.

“And if so, Sir, is this the fashion in which Pharaoh’s envoys enter the presence of those whom it pleases Pharaoh to honour?” asked a silvery voice, speaking in the Grecian tongue though with a soft and foreign accent.

“Yes,” I answered, “if they set stinking camels to frighten their horses and lay ropes to snare their feet.”

Then the blood went to my head and I suppose that I fainted for a while.

When my sense returned I found myself stretched upon a couch and heard that same voice giving orders both in Greek and in the Babylonian or Chaldean tongue of which I knew something through the teaching of my tutor, Belus, also in others that I did not know, all of which talk concerned myself.

“Take that helm from his head,” said the soft voice, though not softly. “O daughter of a fool, can you not see that you are pressing the edge of it upon the bruise? Away with you! Let me do it. So. Now remove the breastplate –that is easy for the straps have burst–and open the tunic to give him air. What a white skin he has for an Egyptian. Any woman would be proud of it. By the gods he is a noble-looking youth and if he dies, as he may for I think his neck is twisted, those who tied the camels there and left the ropes lying shall pay for it. Now, wine. Where is the wine? Lift him gently and pour some down his throat. Nay, not so. Would you drown the man? Hand me the cup. Has that old leech been found? If not, bid him get himself back to Syria as best he may–”

Just then I opened my eyes to the lids of which leaden weights seemed to have been tied. They met the glance of other eyes above me, very beautiful eyes that were neither blue nor black, but something between the two. Also I became aware that a white arm was supporting my head and that the fair and rounded breast of a very beautiful woman who was kneeling beside me, touched my own.

“I am the envoy of the Pharaoh Apries, King of the two Lands and of the countries beyond the sea. The Pharaoh says–” I began in feeble tones, repeating the lesson that I had learned.

“Never mind what the Pharaoh says,” answered she who leant over me in a rich, low voice. “Like most of his messages of which I have had many, I doubt not that it will serve as well to-morrow as to-day. Drink this wine and lie quiet for a while–that is, if your neck is not broken.”

So I drank and lay still, thankful enough to do so for I had fallen on my head and been much shaken, having clung with my hands to the reins of my horse as I had been taught to do in the military school, instead of stretching them out to protect myself. The wine was good and warmed me; also it seemed to clear my brain, so that soon I was able to look about me and take note.

I saw that the pavilion in which I lay was finer than any that I had ever known, being hung all round with beautiful mats or carpets that shone like silk wherever the light fell upon them. Also there was a table at its end set with vessels of gold and silver, and round it folding stools made of ebony inlaid with ivory and piled with cushions, and a brazier that stood upon a tripod, for the desert air was chill, wherein burnt wood that gave out sweet odours. Moreover there were hanging lamps of silver that presently were lit by a swarthy eunuch, for now night was closing in, which burned with a clear white flame and like the fire gave out scents.

The eunuch, clad in his rich apparel and head-dress of twisted silk, glanced at me out of his oblong eyes and went away, leaving me alone in that perfumed place. Lying thus upon my soft, cushioned bed, a strange mood took hold of me, as it does at times of those whose brains reel under the weight of some heavy blow. I seemed to lose all sense of time and place; I seemed to be floating on a cloud above the earth, looking backwards and forwards. Far away behind me was a wall or mass of blackness out of which I crawled, a tiny, naked child, into the light of day. Then came visions of my infancy, little matters in my life that I had long forgotten, words that my mother had murmured into my baby ears, her caresses when I was sick; the softness of her cheek as she pressed it against my fevered brow, and I know not what besides. And all this while I, the infant in her arms, seemed to be asking this question of her,

“Mother, whence came I and why am I here?”

To which she answered, “I do not know, my child. The gods will tell you –when you are dead.”

The stream of time flowed on. Yes, it was a stream, for I saw it flowing, and on it I floated, clutching day by day at sticks and straws wherewith I built me a house of life, as a bird builds its nest, till at last I saw myself falling from the horse and for a moment all grew dark. Then out of the darkness there appeared shadowy shapes, some beautiful, some terrible, and I knew that these were the spirits of the future showing me their gifts. They passed by and once more before me was a black wall such as that whence I had seemed to come in the beginning, which wall I knew was Death. I searched to find some opening but could discover none. I sank down, outworn and terrified, and lo! as I sank there appeared a glorious gateway, and beyond it a city of many palaces and temples in whose courts walked gods, or men who looked like gods.

My vision passed and I awoke, wondering where that city might be and if within it I should find any habitation.

It was a foolish dream, yet I set it down because I think it told me something of the mystery of birth and death. Or rather it set out these mysteries, revealing nothing, for who knows what lies beyond those black walls that are our Alpha and Omega and between which we spell out the alphabet of Life. Also it was not altogether foolish, for even then I knew that the shapes of terror which seemed to wait upon my path were portents of advancing woe–and trembled...

It must have been the dead of night when I awoke thus out of my swoon, for now there was no sound in the camp, save the tramping of the sentries and the howling of distant dogs or jackals smitten of the moon. In the pavilion the scented lamps burned low or had been shaded, so that the place was filled with a soft gloom, in which shadows seemed to move, caused no doubt by the swinging of the lamps in the draught of the night air. Yet one of these shadows, the most palpable of them all, did not move; indeed it seemed to stand over me like a ghost that waits the passing of one whom it has loved. I grew afraid and stirred, thinking to speak, whereon the shadow turned its head so that the light of the lamp fell upon the beautiful face of a woman.

“Who are you?” I asked in a whisper, for I seemed to fear to speak aloud.

A sweet voice answered,

“O Ramose, Pharaoh’s son and envoy, I am your hostess Atyra, once a queen.”

“And what do you here, Queen Atyra?”

“I watch you, my guest, in your swoon.”

“A poor task, Lady, more fitting to a leech or slave.”

“I think not, Ramose, son of the king, as I have been told that you are by your escort and others. There is much to be learned from those who sleep by one who has the gift of reading souls.”

“Is it your gift, Lady?”

“I have been taught it by wise men in Syria, magi the Persians call them, and as I think not quite in vain. At least I have read your soul.”

“Then, Lady, you have read that which is worth nothing, for what is written upon so short a scroll?”

“Much, Count Ramose, for our life is like the chapters of a book, and already at our birth Fate has stamped the titles of those chapters upon its clay, leaving it to Time to write the rest. Your story, I think, will be long, if sad in part. Yet it was not to talk of such things that I have come here alone at night.”

“Why, then, did you come, Lady?”

“First to see how you fared, for your fall was heavy, and secondly, if you were well enough, to hear your message.”

“It is short, Lady. Pharaoh bids me say that he will answer your requests to-morrow, since to-day it is too late.”

“Yet it was not too late for him to send you, Count Ramose, charged with words that mean nothing. I will tell you why he sent you; it was to spy upon me and make report to him.”

Thus she said, resting her chin upon her hand and looking at me with her great dark eyes which shone in the lamplight like to those of a night-bird, but I remained silent.

“You do not answer, O Ramose, because you cannot. Well, your office is easy, for I will tell you all there is to learn. The old king, Abibal, whose wife I was in name, is dead, and dying left a charge upon me–to save his country from the Babylonians, calling down the curse of all the gods upon my head in life and on my soul in death, should I fail by my own fault to fulfil his dying prayer. Therefore I have come to Egypt, although the oracles warned me against this journey, for the case of these Syrians is very hard and desperate, and in Egypt lies their only hope who alone cannot stand against the might of Babylon. Tell me, Son of the king, will Apries help us?”

“I do not know, Lady,” I answered, “but I do know that least of all things does he, or Egypt, desire a war against Babylon. You must plead your own cause with him; I cannot answer your question.”

“How can I plead my cause, Count Ramose? I bring great gifts of gold and silks and spices, but what are these to him who holds the wealth of Egypt? I can promise allegiance and service, but my people are far away and Egypt seeks no war in which they can be used.”

Again I answered that I did not know, then added,

“Yet your nation could have found no better envoy, for Pharaoh loves a beautiful woman.”

“Do you think me beautiful?” she asked softly. “Well, to tell truth, so have others, though as yet such favour as I have, has brought me little joy –” and she sighed, adding slowly, “Of what use is beauty to her who has found none to love?”

“I know little of such things, Lady. Yet, perhaps for you the search is not finished.”

She looked at me a while before she answered,

“My heart tells me that you are right, O Ramose. The search is not finished.”

Then she rose and taking a cup of wine gave me to drink of it, afterwards drinking a little herself as though to pledge me.

This done, she poured the rest of the wine upon the ground, like to one who makes an offering before some god, bent down so close that her scented breath beat upon my brow, whispered to me to sleep well, and glided away.

I think there must have been some medicine in that wine, for presently all the pain left my head and neck and I fell fast asleep, yet not so fast but that through the long hours I seemed to dream of the loveliness of this Syrian queen, until at length I was awakened by the sunlight shining in my eyes.

A servant who must have been watching me, noted this and went away as though to call some one. Then an old man came, one with a white beard who wore a strange-shaped cap.

“Greeting, Sir,” he said in bad Greek. “As you may guess, I am the court physician. Most unhappily I was absent last night, seeking for certain plants that are said to grow in Egypt, which must be gathered by the light of the moon, since otherwise they lose their virtue; indeed, I returned but an hour ago.”

“Is it so, Physician?” I answered. “Well, I trust that you found your herbs.”

“Yes, young sir, I found them in plenty and gathered them with the appropriate spells. Yet I would I had never learned their name, for I hear that my mistress is very wrath with me because I was not present when you chanced to roll into the tent like a stone thrown from a catapult, and may the gods help him with whom she is wrath! Still I see that you live who, I was told, had a broken neck. Now let me see what harm you have taken, if any.”

Then he called to the eunuch to come within the screens that had been set round me, and strip me naked. When this was done, he examined me with care, setting his ear against my breast and back, and feeling me all over with his hands.

“By Bel, or whatever god you worship,” he said, “you have a fine shape, young lord, one well fitted for war–or love. Nor can I find that there is aught amiss with you, save a bruise upon your shoulder and a lump at the back of your head. No bone is broken, that I will swear. Stand up now and let me treat you with my ointments.”

I stood up, to find myself little the worse save for a dizziness which soon passed away, and was rubbed with his aromatics, and afterwards washed and clothed. Then I was led out of the pavilion to where my men were camped, who rejoiced to see me living and sound, for a rumour had reached them that I was dead. With them I ate and a while later was summoned to the presence of the Queen Atyra.

So once more I entered the pavilion, to find this royal lady seated in a chair made of sycamore wood inlaid with ivory. I bowed to her and she bowed back to me, giving no sign that she had ever seen me before. Indeed she looked at me with her large eyes as though I were a stranger to her, and I looked at her clad in her rich robes over which flowed her black abundant hair, and marvelled at her beauty, for it was great and moved me.

I will not set out all our talk; indeed after these many years much of it is forgotten, though that which we held at midnight I remember well, when we were but man and woman together, and not as now, an envoy and a foreign queen discussing formal matters of state. The sum of it was that she grieved to hear of my mischance, and prayed me to accept a stallion of the Syrian breed in place of my own which had been lamed through the carelessness of her servants, but rejoiced to know from her physician that beyond a blow which stunned me for a while, I had taken little harm.

I thanked her and delivered Pharaoh’s message, at which she smiled and said that it told her nothing, except that she must wait where she was, until it pleased him to send another. Meanwhile she hoped that I would be her guest as the physician told her I was not yet fit to ride.

Now as this plan pleased me well, for to tell truth I longed for more of the company of that most lovely woman, I summoned the scribe who was amongst those who rode with me, and wrote a letter to Pharaoh, telling him of what had chanced, which letter I despatched in charge of two of my guard. They departed, and at evening returned again, bringing an answer signed by Pharaoh’s private scribe, which bade me stay till I was able to travel, and then accompany the Queen Atyra to the court.

So there I remained that night, being given a tent to sleep in near to the pavilion. In the evening also I was bidden to eat with the queen and certain of her councillors, when, as she alone knew the Grecian tongue, the talk lay between her and me. Indeed as soon as the meal was finished she made some sign whereat these men rose and went away, leaving us alone.

The night was very hot, so hot that presently she said,

“Come, my young guest, if it pleases you, let us leave this tented oven, and walk a while beneath the moon, breathing the desert air. No need to call your guard, for here you are as safe as though you sat in Pharaoh’s palace.”

I answered that it pleased me well, and calling for two of her women to accompany us, we set forth, the queen wearing a hooded, silken cloak that the women brought to her, which covered her white shape and glittering jewels like a veil. I too was wrapped in a cloak, since I wore no armour, and thus, we thought, the pair of us passed unnoted through the camp.

At a distance on the crest of a sandy hill, stood the ruin of some old temple overlooking the cultivated land and the broad waters of the Nile. Thither we wended followed by the two women; at least at first we were followed by them, but later when I looked I could not see them any more. Still of this I said nothing who was well content to be alone with this gracious and beautiful lady. We came to the temple and entered its hoary courts whence a jackal fled away, as did a night-bird perched upon a cornice, telling me that here there was no man. At the far end of the court there remained a statue of Hathor, one of a pair, for the other had fallen. That it was Hathor might easily be known for she wore the vulture cap and above it horns between which rested the disc of the moon. Near to the feet of this statue in the shadow of a wall, Atyra sat herself down upon a broken block of alabaster, motioning to me to place myself at her side.

“What goddess is this,” she asked, “who carries the horns of a beast upon the brow of a fair woman?”

“Hathor, goddess of Love,” I answered, “whom some call Mistress of the gods.”

“Is it so? Well, by this title or by that she is known in every land, and well is she named Mistress of the gods and men. Strange that amidst all this ruin she alone should have stood through the long centuries, an emblem of love that does not die. How beautiful is the night! See the great moon riding in yonder cloudless sky. Look at her rays glittering on the river’s face and hark to the breeze whispering among the palms beneath. Truly such a night should be dear to Hathor, so dear that–”

Here she broke off her dreamy talk, then said suddenly,

“Tell me of yourself, Prince Ramose.”

“Do not give me that title,” I exclaimed. “If it were heard it might bring trouble on me who am but a Count of Egypt by Pharaoh’s grace!”

“Yet it is yours, Ramose,” she answered, “and in this place there is none to hear save Hathor and the moon. Now speak.”

So I told her my short tale, to which she listened as though it had been that of the deeds of a king; then said,

“But you have left out the half of it all. You have left out Hathor.”

“I do not understand,” I answered, looking down to hide my blushes.

“I mean that you have left out love. Tell me of those whom you have loved. Do you not know that it is of love that all women wish most to hear?”

“I cannot, Lady, for I have–never loved.”

“If that be true, how deep a cup of love is left for you to drink, whose lips have not yet sipped its wine, Ramose. So here in the shadow of Hathor sit a pair of us, for to give you truth for truth, I tell you that though I am your elder, I too have never loved.”

“Yet you are a widow,” I said astonished.

“Aye, the widow of an aged man who married me because of my birth, my wit, my wealth, and the great friends I brought him, and whom I married to serve my people that were threatened, as his are to-day, by the giant might of Babylon. Abibal was to me a father and no more, if a beloved father whose commands I will execute to the death, which commands bring me upon a long and perilous journey to seek help from mighty Pharaoh who desires to give me none.”

Now I glanced at her sideways, and said,

“You are very beauteous, Lady. You have the eyes of a dove, the step of a deer, the wisdom of a man and the grace of a palm. Were there then none who pleased your eyes about your court in Syria?”

“While my lord lived I was blind, as became a loyal wife,” she answered.

“And now that he is dead, Lady?”

“Oh! now I cannot say. No more do I seek a husband who am a queen and would remain free, the slave of no one, for what slavery is there like to that of marriage? Yet it is true that I desire love, if I may choose that love. Come; let us be going, for yonder Egyptian Hathor of yours casts her spell over me and brings thoughts that for long I have forbidden in my heart. I think that this is an evil-omened place; its goddess tells of love, but its hoar ruins tell of death. Doubtless did we but know it, here we sit above the shrouded dead who, staring at us from their sepulchres, mock our beating hearts which soon will be as still as theirs. Come; let us be going, who yet are young and free from the webs of Hathor and of death. Death, I defy thee while I may. Hathor, I make a mock of thee and thy calm, compelling gaze. Dost thou not also make a mock of Hathor, Ramose?” and turning, she looked at me with her great eyes that seemed to glow in the shadows like to those of an owl.

“I do not know,” I answered faintly, for those eyes drew the strength out of me. “Yet it is dangerous to mock at any goddess, and most of all at Hathor. Still, let us go, I think it very wise that we should go; the scent of your hair overwhelms me who have been ill. My brain rocks like a boat upon the sea. Hathor has me by the hand.”

“Yes, I think that Hathor has us both by the heart,” she answered in her low rich voice, a voice of honey.

Then our lips met, for there in her temple we had drunk of Hathor’s cup.

CHAPTER 3

THE COUNSEL OF BELUS

We rose; her face was like the dawn, her eyes were dewy, but I trembled like a leaf, I whose heart for the first time love had gripped with cruel hands.

I thought I saw a shadow flit across a pool of moonlight that lay within the temple’s broken pylon, the shadow of a man.

“What frightens you?” she asked.

I told her in a whisper.

“Perchance it was a spirit of which this place must be full, for such, they say, look like shadows. Or perchance it was thrown from the broad wings of some fowl of the night,” she answered lightly. “At least if it be otherwise, that watcher was too far away to have seen us here, seated side by side in gloom. Certainly he could not have heard our words. Yet, Ramose, Hathor’s gift to me, I would warn you. Among those who sat with us at the board to-night, did you take note of one, a bearded man of middle age, hook-nosed, with flashing eyes like to those of a hawk?”

“Yes, Lady Atyra, and I thought that he looked askance at me.”

“It may be so. Listen. That man was a councillor of Abibal’s, a priest of his god also, and as such one of great power in the land. Always he has pursued me with his love, and now he would wed me. But I hate him, as hitherto I have hated all men, and will have none of him. Moreover,” here her voice grew hard and cold, “when I am strong enough I will be rid of him, but that is not yet. If I can win Pharaoh’s friendship and bring it to pass that he names me to succeed to the throne of Abibal, as his subject queen, then and not till then shall I be strong enough, for this Ninari has a large following and the half of my escort are sworn to him. Meanwhile, have no fear and be sure that in this, our first kiss, I pledged my heart to you and to no other man.”

“I thank you, O most Beautiful,” I answered. “Yet tell me, Lady, how can this matter end? You have been a queen and will be one again, while I am but Pharaoh’s base-born son, one of many, though I think that he loves me best of all of them. Also I am young and unproved. What then can there be between us?”